


Half-light

by rhettmclovely



Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: AU, Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Blow Jobs, Flirting, I'll update the tags as I go, M/M, Masturbation, Mentions of Negan/OC, Needy Rick Grimes, Swearing, negan is a bartender, past Rick/Michonne, rick's a mess, this is a mess in general
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-09
Updated: 2019-03-02
Packaged: 2019-10-24 18:41:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,541
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17709473
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rhettmclovely/pseuds/rhettmclovely
Summary: It hadn’t been an easy year. Since Carl, things hadn’t been good. He knew he had become a liability. Transferring him to the middle of nowhere, where nothing ever happened, had been a kindness they were doing him and he was doing them.





	1. Chapter 1

He’s trying not to wallow in his misery. The town is nice enough. It’s beautiful, really. Judith would probably love the park. It’s the type of beautiful town you would want to move to to raise your family in. But that boat had sailed.

 

It hadn’t been an easy year. Since Carl, things hadn’t been good. How could they have been? Michonne had tried, more than he likes to think about. She had been there when he shut himself off, when he lost it and didn’t seem to be able to do anything but sob for hours on end, when he got angry and picked fights and left without telling her where he was going, when he came back in the middle of the night, drunk and crying. When he became a bad father. When grief made him forget that, though Carl was gone, there was still someone he had to look after. Michonne picked up the slack, every time.

 

And then she just told him. He had been pulling all nighters, at the station, that no one needed or wanted him too, for over a week. It had been days since he had even come home. He had refused to talk to her about Carl or Judith or them, and she had had it.

 

She told him that, as much as it hurt her, it was time to accept that things were not working. She didn’t blame him for his grief, she knew he knew that, but she just couldn’t do it anymore.

 

In her place, he wouldn’t have lasted two days.

 

She told him she should look after Judith for a while. It didn’t matter that she wasn’t her daughter (hell, he was pretty sure he wasn’t her father, either), he knew he was in no shape to take care of her, and he knew he could trust Michonne, so he agreed.

 

Getting transferred miles away was not part of the plan. He knew he had become a liability. He might have been drunk but he wasn’t an idiot. Transferring him to the middle of nowhere, where nothing ever happened, had been a kindness they were doing him and he was doing them. Minimizing the probability of him really fucking up something big, without just throwing him on the street with nothing but his hat.

 

The drinking got worse when he found himself alone. No one around that he knew and no desire to get to know anyone else. He didn’t wait for Michonne to tell him he should give Judith some time. He had wanted, for once, to look like he had his shit together, to have an important conversation sober, but when he opened his mouth he found his speech was slurred and his brain slowed down by the whiskey.

 

Michonne agreed, begged him to spend the night. He shouldn’t be driving like that. But he wouldn’t. That house had too many painful memories, sleeping there like some sort of unwanted guest just added insult to injury.

 

“Please text me when you get there, Rick.” She had said, her jaw clenching, with worry, and maybe some pity thrown in the mix.

 

Rick made it back just fine. He almost wished he had run himself off the road. It would have made it easier for everyone.

 

As he drives into town, he tries his best to focus on work. There’s this case… well, calling it a case is pushing it. It’s probably just some kid bored out of his mind, breaking into random houses to see what he can find. But be that as it may, for a town with a population of like 5 assholes, it has proven ridiculously hard to figure it out.

 

He decides he should try the bar. Maybe someone there could help him. If not, he could use a drink. Win-win.

 

He knows he can make himself seem okay, if he stays quiet. He can walk on a straight line, right to the point of blacking out. So he doesn’t think his reputation will suffer much if some hicks see him grabbing a drink.

 

The place is packed. It’s Friday night and apparently this is the only place in town that’s decent enough, so he’s not surprised.

 

He has no plans to cause much of an impression tonight. He makes his way to the bar and orders a whiskey.

 

“Coming right up.” The bartender says, flashing him a grin, before throwing the dishtowel over his shoulder and fishing the bottle out of the packed shelf.

 

Rick looks him up and down as he stops to talk to a couple girls desperately trying to get a drink.

 

“C’mon, Amanda. You know I can’t make a fucking cosmo. You’re fucking killing me, sweetheart” He says, clutching his chest.

 

“Here you go, man.” The bartender says sliding Rick his drink across the bar, before walking back to the girls, leaning over the bar so he can whisper in their ears.

 

Rick scoffs, as he continues to listen in on the conversation. He’s cocky, swears like a sailor, can’t seem to help himself from flirting with the girls.

 

He’s not completely unattractive, Rick finds, after a couple more drinks.

 

Rick loses track of time. Before he knows it the crowd starts to dissipate. As the bartender comes pick him Rick’s glass, Rick finds himself asking him:

 

“You from around here?”

 

He can see him roll his eyes.

 

“No. But I’ve been around for a while. Why?” He asks Rick, as he strokes his beard.

 

“No reason… Just making conversation, that’s all.”

 

The bartender raises his eyebrows, scoffing.

 

“I’ll bet, Officer.”

 

Rick wasn’t trying to hide the fact he was a cop. In a town like this, they probably knew before he even set foot in the station.

 

“So what? Are you befriending me so I can tell you who you need to arrest next?” He asks, pulling at the V of his shirt, feigning annoyance.

 

“No.” Rick answers, feeling his cheeks warm up. “I just thought you might help me…”

 

“You expect me to rat on my friends, without even asking me my name, first? Seriously, man, where are your manners?” The man asks, pouring himself a drink.

 

“I’m sorry.” Rick says, raising his hands in defeat, grinning.

 

“Name’s Negan, by the way. I’m sure you’ll figure all our shit out in no time.” He says with a smirk and wink.

 

Rick nods, cheeks warm again, for some damn reason.

 

“You should get going. It's getting late. Besides, got some business to attend to.” Negan says, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively, his eyes glued to the door.

 

Rick turns to see the one of the girls from before, leaning against the doorframe.

 

“See you tomorrow, dude.” Negan says, a warm hand squeezing Rick’s shoulder, for a second, before he’s making his way to her, pulling her closer by the waist and kissing her neck.

 

Rick lets himself out to a chorus of giggles and “Negans”, and, for some reason he can’t quite place, feels like an idiot.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This man, he would never…
> 
> Editor's note: he most definitely would.

Rick wakes up to his phone ringing. His head hurts, he feels like he’s about to throw up. Hell, he feels like he’s been run over by a car. He knows by now, that’s just how it is.

 

“Yeah?” He says, still half asleep, when he manages to pick up his phone from the floor.

 

“Hey. I’m sorry for calling so early. I just…I wanted to check on you. Did you make it home alright?” Michonne asked, and he felt his heart break with how much he missed her, and how much he missed Judith.

 

“I’m okay. How’s Judith?” He asks, and she gives him the complete update. She’s too good to him, even after everything. She’s patient and more than just put up with him and she actually still finds it in her heart to care about him.

 

“Maybe I could go up there soon.” He says, testing the waters.

 

“Yeah, maybe.” She says, and he knows she’s not ready yet. It hurts but he’s so glad. So glad Judith has someone looking out for her that truly puts her first.

 

He has the day off, but he ends up at the station anyway. He has to force himself not to go in. Instead, he decides to walk around town. Hopefully, he’ll see people around, start to see what he’s up against around here.

 

He stops at the little diner for coffee. His head is killing him. He can’t stop thinking of his family, of his friends, of how alone he is, and of how much he is to blame for it.

 

Before he realizes it, he’s finds himself back at the bar. What can he say? He’s seen it all and it’s only 3pm.

 

“We’re closed!” Negan yells, as he puts away his mop to see who’s coming in. “Hey, Officer Friendly!”

 

Rick waves unenthusiastically, sighing at the comfort of the dim lighting.

 

“Damn. You look like shit. What the hell happened to you?” Negan asks, chuckling.

 

Rick shrugs, “Had a little too much to drink. Don’t mean to bother you. I’ll get going.”

 

“No, man. C’mon, sit down. I’ll fix you something to eat.” Negan gestures at one of the tables and disappears into the backroom.

 

“Thanks, but I really don’t want to bother you. I’ll just…”

 

“I’m just making you a sandwich with some stale bread. Relax.” Negan says, popping his head out of the door. “Shiiiit, you’re a lightweight. You had what? Two drinks last night, and look at you, tough guy!”

 

“Here.” Rick says.

 

“Huh?” Negan asks, with a smile, as he comes out to the bar.

 

“I had two drinks here. I had had plenty before. Had a couple more when I got home.”

 

“Rough day?” He asks him, nodding sympathetically, as he sets the sandwich on the table and takes a seat.

 

“Yeah.” Rick says, with a smile, before adding “Rough year.”

 

“Shit, man. I’m sorry” He says, giving Rick’s arm a friendly pat. “So, have you made any progress with whatever you’re working on?”

 

Rick laughs.

 

“It’s been less than twenty-four hours!”

 

“What? Anything that happens here should be a piece of cake for a big shot big city cop, no?” Negan asks, with a wink and smile.

 

“Maybe if I had some insider help…” Rick says, laughing, even though he actually means it.

 

Negan gets up to retrieve his mop and picks up the task.

 

“Listen, man. I really don’t know shit, and that’s how I like to keep it. For my own sake. I know not everyone who comes here is a straight shooter, but they’re just clients. As long as they don’t fuck me over, I’m good with all of them.”

 

“But see, you know who isn’t, right?” Rick says, jokingly pointing an accusing finger at Negan

 

“Huh?”

 

“A straight shooter, I mean. At least you have an idea who isn’t…”

 

 “Yeah, cowboy, don’t push it. You expect to roll in here and get me to rat my own people out. Nah, man. I’m not that easy.” He says with a laugh, and damn it if Rick doesn’t think there’s something in the way he’s looking at him.

 

They lock eyes for a second and Rick almost wants to give him hell, tell him he’s got all the time in the world, that he’ll woo him if he has to, that he’s pretty good at it. It is the truth and, after all, he’s not above doing whatever it takes to get the job done.

 

Rick clears his throat. He’s alone, more than that, he is lonely. He looks at Negan and he finds himself blushing. He knows he is seeing things that aren’t there. This man, he would never…

 

“I could use a drink” Rick says, running his hand through his hair.

 

“Told you we’re closed.” Negan says with a shrug, and a smile. “You should go home.”  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not sure what I'm doing here


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “You’re a damn mess, Rick.”

Negan’s been known to be an asshole. Type of guy to make a girl fall in love with him and disappear only to come back with some new chick on his arm. Type of guy to pick up a fight for no reason and really follow through, until someone ends up in the hospital.

 

Age broke him a little. At some point, as much as it pains you, you have to think about life. So he settled, as much as he could. Got himself a small place, and the bar. It didn’t make him much of a profit, but at least it gave him something to keep busy with and help him stay out of trouble.

 

“You’re an asshole!” The girl yells, throwing a glass at his head that he barely manages to dodge.

 

Mostly.

 

“Forgive me!” he pretends to beg, clutching his chest with a smile, as she storms out of the bar, flipping him off.

 

Officer Friendly is sitting off to left, and Negan can see him laughing.

 

“Shut up.” Negan says, rolling his eyes.

 

He’s drunk. Really drunk. He usually is. But there’s something about him lately. He’s stopped shaving. He looks like he’s been getting even less sleep than he usually does. He’s been spending most of the evenings at the bar. Most of the time he’s the first to get in and the last one to leave. He’ll stay even when it’s obvious the bar’s closed, and Negan’s fixing things to leave.

 

He doesn’t talk much. Every now and then he’ll let something slip and then he’ll stay quiet for the rest of the night, listening to Negan ramble about football, the weather, whatever girl’s been giving him hell recently or whatever. But Negan feels he’s mostly gotten the story. Split up with this girl, moved to this shithole, something bad happened to one of his kids, now he drinks to pass the time.

 

It’s still early, but it’s a Tuesday. There’s no one at the bar but the two usual drunks.

 

“Steve, pick it up!” Negan tells the man in corner, gesturing for him to slam his whiskey. “Gonna wrap this up early tonight.”

 

Steve does as he is told, lets out a laugh, before heading out with a “See you tomorrow.”

 

Rick slams his drink too, getting ready to leave.

 

Shit. Someone has to do something about this drunk mess.

 

“Hey” He says, chastising himself for getting involved.

 

Rick stops in his tracks and looks up at him. Negan can tell he’s tough. Like _real tough_. But he sure as shit always looks like he’s about to break down and sob for three years before he can stop.

 

“Let’s go get something to eat.”

 

Rick swallows hesitantly.

 

“Yeah, it is a pity invitation. Let’s go, hot shot.” Negan says, with a wink, and for a second he thinks he can see Rick smile.

 

They make their way to the diner. it’s not like they got options to begin with, let alone, at 1am on a Tuesday.  

 

“Listen, man. This is none of my business” Negan says, taking a bite of his burger, “But you need to get your shit together.”

 

Rick looks up at him like he’s going to say something, before lowering his gaze back to the plate of food he’s barely touched.

 

“You’re a damn mess, Rick.” Negan adds.

 

Rick doesn’t reply, doesn’t tell him he’s right, doesn’t tell him to fuck off either.

 

“Jesus Christ, do you have nothing to say?”

 

Rick shrugs.

 

“I passed up a date for this shit, you could at least talk to me!” Negan says, jokingly punching Rick’s arm.

 

“What type of date are you having at 1am?” Rick asks, his voice as monotone as ever, but Negan can see a spark in his eyes.

 

“The type of date you ain’t, asshole.” He replies, punching his arm, a little harder now. “You know I only hang out with the classiest of folks.”

 

“You’re here with me, aren’t you?” Rick asks, with a smile, the first proper smile that has graced his face since Negan met him, good Lord, and Negan lets out a laugh.

 

They sit quietly for a moment.

 

“I’ve been through this shit too. I know how…Shit’s rough” Negan says, voice as serious as it gets, before he adds, teasing him “Besides, you’re fucking up my business! A drunk cop makes everyone uncomfortable!”

 

The food was an attempt to sober him up. It might have helped a little, but he was still plastered. When he started making his way to his car, Negan had no choice, but to offer:

 

“I’ll drop you off.”

 

“Nah. I’m good.”

 

“You ain’t got a choice.” Negan spat back.

 

Taking him home on a bike probably wasn’t the smartest idea, but it would have to do.

 

“Hop on.” Negan told Rick and when he saw him roll his eyes, he added “Yeah, man, you’re riding bitch.”

 

Now, Rick was drunk, but he wasn’t a complete idiot, Negan thought, as he felt Rick hesitantly, wrap his arms around his body.

 

“C’mon on now. Don’t have to be shy” He teased, and Rick sighed.

 

He rides slowly. He isn’t gonna risk it. Even though Rick seems to be holding on tight enough to make it through 200mph.  Their bodies are pressed awfully close, way closer than necessary –  guy is practically glued to Negan’s back, he can’t help but think, with a smirk.

 

When they finally make it to his place, Rick seems to be somehow drunker than before.

 

“Wanna come inside?” he asks Negan, his speech slurred, as he gets off the bike.

 

Negan licks his lips, as he gets up to help Rick up to the door. If he didn’t know any better, he’d say Rick’s trying to…

 

“Maybe just have a drink?” Rick asks, hand coming up to grab Negan’s forearm.

 

 _Shit_.

 

“Think you’ve had plenty, Rick.” Negan answers, and before he knows it Rick’s other hand has made it to his jaw, his thumb softly stroking the hair on Negan’s chin.

 

“Well, I’m sure we can figure something else we can do” Rick says, and it should be cheesy. Hell, it is. But fuck, he’s looking at him with his sparkling blue eyes and those perfect lips barely parted and…

 

Negan revels in it a little too long, finds his hands making their way onto Rick’s waist and if he’d just lean in a couple of inches, that’s all it would take. And fucking quiet, broken Rick looks like someone completely different then.

 

It’s only when Rick’s hand finds his to guide him into the house that he stops.

 

“Shiiiiit, man. I can’t. Not like this. Not with you like this,” Negan says, rubbing his temple, “I’m not gonna take advantage…”

 

“I’m good” Rick says, as he drops his keys and stumbles trying to pick them up.

 

“Listen, I ain’t going anywhere. If you… You know where to find me. With your head on straight, alright?”

 

Rick’s nodding, but he’s turning back to face him, pressing his hands flat on Negan’s chest.

 

It takes every ounce of strength in his body to pull himself away, when Rick makes this little whining noise, as he desperately tries to unbuckle Negan’s belt.

 

But he does.

 

“Goodnight, Sheriff.”   

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading this mess!


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It hits him all at once.  
> He's surprised.  
> He's jealous.  
> He's... turned on.

The birds are chirping outside, as the sun starts to flood the room through the blinds. It’s as peaceful a morning as it gets.

 

Rick’s eyes flutter open.

 

“No.”

 

It’s all he can say, the moment his brain wakes up.

 

“Oh fuck.”

 

It comes back to him immediately, even through the dull pain behind his eyelids and the stomach ache and his ringing head. Well, not the whole thing. But enough that he knows he embarrassed himself. Enough to make him want to die before he sets foot in that damn bar again. He’s mortified.

 

For the first time in weeks, he stays home all day. It’s his day off. He’s pretty sure they’ve been giving him a few more days off than anyone else, but today he won’t complain about it. He feels like everyone already knows exactly what happened last night. It’s stupid and irrational, but this is precisely the fucking mystical type of shit that happens in small towns. No one could ever possibly know, but somehow they always do. The way shit went down… it’s embarrassing. And, frankly, it scares the shit out of him.

 

He’s known what he is for years. First, it was Mary in 5th grade. Then, it was Tom in 7th. He knew, even back then, that he felt the same way about him, as he had felt about her. But he was, of course, also pretty aware of the world around him. Of how it was wrong.

 

For years, he had struggled, finding the littlest bit of comfort in knowing that God had had the tiniest bit of mercy on him, in making him like girls too.

 

In high school, he fell in love for the first time. With a guy. It had been hell to pretend those feelings weren’t there, to date some girl who, though she could make him hard with one look, he had no feelings for. But he had gotten over him, and after their moment of weakness, it had been smooth sailing. He’d fallen in love with Melanie, Sara and, then and most of all with Lori. From that point on, he basically forgot men and women existed and that made it easier. He could let himself be perceived as just another guy, with his wife and his kid, even if he felt like he wasn’t being himself fully.

 

Deciding to tell Lori had been a challenge. Deep down, he knew she knew. It’s hard to keep something like that from someone you’ve been with for a decade. Especially when that someone was as smart as Lori. He had cried. Because of the lying and the shame, and she had been kind. He figured it wasn’t easy for her. It definitely wasn’t for him. But she had handled it with grace, as she did most things.

 

After she passed, he couldn’t even look at himself, let alone other people. And then, unexpectedly, he had found Michonne.

 

He loved women. He was raised to love, respect and care for women. Honestly, at his core, he didn’t know how to be anything but a provider, a protector.  

 

With men, it was always just instinct, these urges, almost animalistic, hard to control, and only when he was really drunk would he let himself think about men like that. Last night with Negan… that had just been a magnified version of that.

 

He decides to stay away for a while, make his drinking a domestic venture and focus exclusively on his work.

 

In a cruel twist of fate, work leads him right back to the bar.

 

It’s been a few weeks, but it hasn’t been nearly enough for Rick to feel brave enough to walk in there. The thing is he has no choice. He has to keep tabs on this man. Rick thinks he might be the guy they’ve been looking for. At the very least he knows something, so Rick can’t let this opportunity go.

 

He makes his way to his seat at the bar. Frankly, he would give anything to sit in the corner hoping to stay off Negan’s radar, but it’s where he always sits and he figures he might as well make this as inconspicuous as possible.

 

“The usual?” Negan asks, with a quick smile, as he comes out of the backroom.

 

“Yeah.” Rick replies, feeling his cheeks get red, as Negan places the glass in front of him.

 

*****

 

Negan makes it easy for him. Pretends nothing happened. Maybe Rick doesn’t remember. Unlikely, Negan knows, given how he’s acting.

 

It’s much more likely he would rather not remember. Negan knows the type. He’s fucked the type. Hell, he’s been the type.

 

He keeps their interactions brief, but cordial, flashing him a smile and telling him some joke like he would have before. It’s not difficult not to find himself drawn to Rick, since the evening is busier than it’s been in a while.

 

Towards the end of the night, he spots Rick, out of the corner of his eye, fidgeting with his glass and he knows he’s trying to decide whether or not to talk to Negan about what happened.

 

Rick seems to wait for everyone to leave and for Negan to get ready to close, before he gets up and walks towards the register, where he’s standing.

 

“I just wanted to say that I’m sorry about…I’m not sure what…I just…”

 

“No need, man. We’re good. Let’s go. We’ll talk later.” Negan says as he gestures for Rick to leave, and he does.

 

As Rick settles in the driver’s seat, he can see Negan close up, and walk towards some young guy who’s leaning on a car. Rick can see Negan press himself against the guy and kiss his neck as the other guy laughs and Rick can’t quite place what he’s feeling.

 

*****

 

It hits him all at once.

 

Rick’s surprised. This whole thing had been a rollercoaster from the start. He had been sure Negan was flirting with him, too terrified to encourage him. Then, he was sure he wasn’t, that Rick was only seeing what he wanted to see. That the flirting was just a part of his personality he couldn’t help. And it might have been. But now Rick knew he was into men too.

 

Rick’s jealous. Seeing that guy, tall and slender, a little too young for it to feel appropriate, that close to him. Seeing him get in the car with Negan and drive off.

 

He pours himself a drink the moment he gets through the door.

 

Rick’s…turned on. It’s messed up, but he can’t help himself, as he downs the whiskey and lets his body fall on the couch, and palms himself through the jeans.

 

He can just see it. That guy, so eager to please, immediately dropping to his knees for Negan, yanking his jeans down, getting his hands and mouth on him.

 

Rick can just hear the noises that guy would be able to fish out of Negan. The grunts and the moans, low in his throat, as this guy bobs head up and down Negan’s cock.

 

_Shit_ , Rick’s drunk enough now.

 

He undoes his belt and the buttons on the fly of his jeans, and pulls his erection out of his boxers. When he actually gets his hands on himself, he’s almost hurting with how bad he needs to come. All he can think about his Negan’s hands coming up to pull the guy’s hair as he whispers soft words of encouragement and praise, smiling the damn smile.

 

It doesn’t take long for Rick to pick up the pace, stroking himself frantically, like he’s trying to match up the rhythm of his heart that seems to be about to beat out of his chest.

 

When Rick comes, the guy on his knees for Negan doesn’t seem to be the guy he saw before in the parking lot, his blond hair has turned darker and curlier, his young face has gotten older, his clean shaven jaw replaced by a greying beard. He comes all over himself, with Negan’s name on his lips.


End file.
